Nebuchadnezzar's Harvest: The Ladder in my Blood
by Venomous Mask
Summary: It is about 1,500 years in the future.  Humanity is gone, wiped out in a massive BOW infestation that covered the planet.  In the wake of this destruction, the monsters have gained sentience and have built their own world of chaos, mystery, and conquest.
1. Red Sand

Part 1: Red Sand

_"I walk through the fire, for you. Your fever, it cools me."_ - Scott Kelly, The Ladder in my Blood

The Sun beat down on the Earth like the wrathful stare of an angry god. To many humans, the desert had been the epitome of hell; hot and mostly lifeless. But for many of Earth's denizens, it represented perfection. It was the only part of the world that was still mostly pure, a stark contrast to the bustling metropolises that seemed to be filled with little more than violence and deceit. The hot Sun was a pure metaphor for the Dawn, the day when the new order had arose from humanity's ashes.

Across the plain could be seen two individuals; a man and his horse. They strode across the hard ground, a mixture of sand, gravel, and crushed bones. Melekath and his horse Aburson were on their way to the nearest city to trade some goods and meet with relatives. He was clothed from head to foot in the garments similar to what had been worn by Sahara nomads. Of course, this was technically the region once known as the American Southwest, but a beating desert is a beating desert. He carried a belt with several pouches around his waste, an assault rifle slung over his shoulder, a pistol one on hip, and a dagger on the other, plus there was a small knife in one of his boots. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes. Across Aburson's back were numerous goods to be traded. At first glance, there was nothing too strange about the pair. But upon looking closer, one could see their eyes shimmering blood red, a sign of Plagas infection. Underneath their veneers were deadly parasites that could emerge at any time to do battle. Plagas were the dominant lifeforms on Earth, but they did not go unchallenged, and they had to remain on guard at all times. Then again, everyone did.

It has been a while since I've seen my relatives in Godface, thought Melekath. Unlike many Majini, his family was scattered across North America continent. That did not mean that he would not make the rounds to visit them every couple years. For a Plaga, one's clan was the most important thing in the world, even more important than one's own life. The Kitabu Cha Mngu, the Majini holy book stated that one's family "was part of one's soul, bound by Mokoroth before time." To ignore one's family was not only anti-social, it was offensive to the gods. Thus Melekath was almost always on the move to visit his relatives, making the life of a wandering trader perfect for him.

Melekath noticed several beings off in the distance. Taking out his binoculars, he tried to make out what they were. Their awkward saunter and rotted skin were dead giveaways; Zombies, and not sentient ones. Millions of these undead things roamed the Earth; they were little threat by themselves, but if they swarmed you, you could be in trouble. As none of them appeared to be the swift-footed Crimson Heads, they were little threat. If he stayed far enough away, they might not even notice him. But there was no profit in that. Zombies often carried small items from their past lives that could be pawned at market. Grabbing his rifle, he moved towards them.

"Hey, shitskins!" he yelled. He wanted to get their attention so they would all move his way and would thus be easier targets. They turned towards him and began moving in his direction, moaning. He took aim at their heads and clipped off several rounds. Within a matter of seconds, it was over. He moved towards the corpses carefully; these things had tendency to get back up even after you thought you had put them down. As none of them were moving, he started rifling through their pockets. There were a few cell phones, a pocketknife, a small mirror, and some coins that could be melted. There was tons of paper money; it was all useless in the market, though he kept some to use as rags.

As night fell, he set up a camp for himself. After eating dinner and feeding Aburson, he poured out a liquid made of antifreeze and boric acid into the fire. The fire then blazed green. This was done as a ritual in honor of Ulo, Majini god of wanderers.

A little ways on, he saw more figures. They were not regular Zombies, as they all moved purposefully and without a limp. They were members of the Cult of Omnium. They only wore thin rags for protection, and carried no other personal goods. They did not beg, though they occasionally stole; they mostly lived by scrounging. Their philosophy was the since life was little more than suffering, there was no use in trying to work a better life for yourself. They accepted any hardships that came their way without complaint; what made them really unique is that they did not fight back when they attacked. In a world where violence seemed to be the only certain thing, self-defense was a necessity, and yet the Omnites rejected this. This made them easy prey for the monsters that roamed the wasteland, but they didn't care; indeed, they saw death as relief from suffering, although they strictly rejected suicide. They felt that accepting all that came your way gained the favor of the gods and led to a happy afterlife. To try to struggle to make you way in the world, they believed, disrupted the divine plan and only made things worse.

Most of them appeared to be enlightened undead (or Endead for short; Zombies that possessed intelligence), though there also appeared to be a Majini and a Tyrant. Unlike many religions, the Omnites did not discriminate on the basis of race, as they believed that suffering was a universal truth.

A few hours later, Melekath and Aburson finally arrived at their destination; the city of Godface. It rose up like a monolith to the cursed heavens, bearing the face of the king god, Mokoroth. Its grim facade was neither happy nor sad, but appeared simply to be resigned to the blackened world, a mute acceptance and nothing more

Fires and lights burned from the inside, either from dwellings or from random violence. Melekath moved towards the main gate.


	2. World of Rust

Part 2: World of Rust

"_The wind sings alone for the martyr, a man against the age."_ – Steve Von Till, _Twice Born_

The streets of Godface were packed as usual. Tall, closely packed buildings shot up towards the sky, some of them pointing out into open air, while others were covered by a partially completed ceiling, built for when it was intended for Godface to a be a monastery. The buildings were tall, but many weren't straight; instead, they were twisting, and full of uneven rooms, hallways. The floor of one building could be several stories high, but the one right above might be barely tall enough for someone to walk around erect and not hit their head. It was not hard to consider that the whole place had not originally been meant to be a secular city. Everywhere was filth and dust, and the stench of violence and treachery. At the same time, there was great vibrancy, as beings came in from all over to live or do business in the city.

Creatures and beings of all kinds jostled for space. Vendors sold all sorts of wares; food, electronics, clothing, medicine. It was illegal to sell weapons in open market, but if one was looking for arms, they wouldn't have much trouble finding a black market connection.

"Heat deflection robes! Go out into the wasteland and not sweat a drop!"

"Vintage computers! Quality pre-Dawn!

"Human meat, get your human meat! Frozen and as good as the day it was harvested!"

Melekath and Aburson walked over to one of the tables belong to a being named Rogerton. Sitting behind it was a creature dressed in a thick robe. One could see the shoulder bones jutting at the back. It was eyeless, and had rows of sharp teeth. A long tongue whipped in and out. Rogerton was a Licker, a Licker A to be exact, the same kind that had run wild during the Racoon City Incident centuries ago. Those kinds had also come to reproduce asexually after the Dawn as their more advanced cousins had pre-Dawn. Rogerton had lived for years as a forager, and thus had a knack for making use out of almost any trinket that he came across.

"Still ugly as ever, eh, lumphead?" said Melekath.

"I may look ugly, but you smell like shit pot pie." he replied. "Then again, you bug people are known enjoy living in filth. How have you been doing, old friend? What brings you to this fine city of gentle, civilized beings?"

"Somehow I don't think you a big bather yourself, Roberton." said Melekath. "You know me, never in one place. Most Plagas develop a fierce attachment to their home, but I just can't be like that."

"Sometimes I get the itch to wander again" replied Rogerton. "But I guess I'm getting too old for that life. I'll probably be at this stand for the rest of my life, trying to rip off gullible outsiders of their hard-earned goods."

Melekath opened up his satchel. "I have some things you might be interested in. Fresh vitamin packs from Rothdor, as well as some odds and ends from some Zombies that I looted early this morning."

"Those Zombies are just walking salt mines, aren't they? Let's have a look." As Lickers had no eyes, they analyzed objects mainly through touch. It was easy to think that their massive claws were good for little else than gutting enemies, but they had developed incredibly sensitive tiny hairs on their claws that allowed them to make feel the minute details of an item to a greater degree than even a human could. Roberton moved his fingers over the objects slowly, feel every part of them.

"What is this thing?" he asked Melekath, rubbing one item. "It's awfully smooth."

"It's a mirror." Melekath replied. "I found it on one of the Zombies."

"A mirror?" he said, whipping his tongue in annoyed disbelief. "What use could I have for this? Well, I could always break it apart and use the fragments for knives, but objects like this are rare. Better sell it to one of the Ashfords. Those vain sons of bitches love to dote on their looks."

"So how much will you give to me for these things? My cousin will never let me hear the end of it if I come to his house with nothing to show for my travels. My whole family has always felt that my nomadic life is a waste of time, and that I should just pick one city to live. But where's the fun in that? I'd get fat not fighting off bandits and running from Grave Diggers." he said, laughing.

"Well, I can give you ten pounds of salt for all of this." exclaimed Roberton. "I would give more, but a monk came in the other week with some vitamin packs, so I kind of have too many at the moment."

Just like in ancient times, salt had once again become a sought-after commodity that was accepted as curreny in many places. The expansion of the desert regions made everyone sweat and lose lots of salt. Some creatures, like the Zombies, required a daily allotment of salt or they would cease to function properly.

Ten pounds was a good deal, probably the best Melekath could get just about anywhere. Many merchants would have given him no more than seven pounds. Despite its somewhat anarchic exterior, there was a rhyme and reason to trade in the cities. Personal connections were a must or else you were bound to be ripped off. 

After completing the transaction, Melekath took a left down a narrow winding alley, Aburson following behind him. Filthy clothes hung out to dry on stories above (monsters had a different definition of "clean"). Beggars crouched in corners, holding out hands for coins and small salt packs. They were mostly zombies who were too brittle to move much anymore. Melekath gave them a few coins, and then moved on.

Turning onto a wider street, he saw a Zombie preacher standing on a box going on about the nature of Mokoroth, the Supreme God.

"The Lickers teach that Mokoroth is above us, that he does not care for what we do, that He is as placade as his likeness on the face of this city. I say to you, they speak falsely! The spirit of Mokoroth dwells in every sentient being on this planet. His commands are not suggestions on how we might handle ourselves, but they are His Will, and to disobey them is to spit on God and deny the divinity of ourselves and of all creation."

"If we all have God inside us, then why can't we make this world better than the shithole it is now?" asked a Hunter. "Answer that one, holy man."

"As long as we continue to disobey the teachings of Mokoroth, this world shall remain cursed. If we know God, we shall know peace. If not, then there shall be no peace. From the glorious Dawn of this world, we were tasked to purify it, to make it straight for the time when Mokoroth would come in physical form with his Avatars. Instead, we have given in to our baser instincts, and act as if we are still creatures in a lab. In the words of Holy Scripture 'discard thine former filth, and live as how Mok would have thee live.' It is our fault, not God's, that this land is filled with pain and strife."

The preacher then turned to Melekath.

"Ah, a Majini. No doubt a follower of the Kitabu Cha Mngu. A fine piece of work, that book is. I shall speak plainly; I believe that many of the stories and myths of the Plagas are nothing but that, and should not be treated as Scripture. But you Majini take religious scholarship to new levels, and truly get at the heart of understanding the divine. Tell me, what do you think the solution to all the suffering around us is?"

"I think we can only do our best in following what Mokoroth has decreed." Melekath replied. "We may have God inside us, but He is not all of us. I don't think we can ever expect perfection, and I don't think that we have control over His actions. If He comes today, or tomorrow, or in a thousand years, it will be His decision, not one based on the behavior of a bunch of bottom dwellers like ourselves."

"If we were to truly do 'our best' as you say," said the Zombie, "we would _become_ perfect. There is no limit to the power of the teachings and of Mokoroth, as well as his divine justice. The corrupt rulers of this world would be well to remember that."

In the highest tower of Godface, Nemesis sat on his iron throne. He had no shirt on (the air conditioner had broke again, but his pants were made entirely from multiple layers of kevlar.

He towered close to eight feet, and had a surgical scare where his right eye should have been. He was spitting image of his "brother" that had massacred Racoon City's STARS unit. Unlike that BOW, he was not a dumb brute, but instead had a keen political intellect. That being said, his temper was just as noticeable as his intelligence, and everyone around his knew quite well not to say anything out of place. Standing in front of him was Commander Orax, a purple, venomous Hunter that was in charge of the city's garrison.

Nemesis had ruled Godhand for little over a century. During his rule, the city had retained its spot as being a valuable trade depot between North and Central was one of the largest city states in the region, and it continued to grow.

'But,' he thought, 'my city is facing renewed threat from the north. The large and arrogant empire of Majinia was a serious threat to the city's security. I have driven the Majini away before and I will do it again. I am a Tyrant, one of the most powerful lifeforms on the planet, and I will not be brought low by foul insects!'

He would have loved to march into the halls of the palace in Baltimore, to strangle the Emperor and to rip his heart out. But that would never happen. So he had to be content with smashing imperial armies on the battlefield. No easy task, to be sure, but he would not be beaten.

Not like his brother had been, over a millennium and half ago.

"Raiders from the east have died down ever since we destroyed a large force of them in the Gash, but some of our men were killed in a sortie with some Plagas from Majinia." stated Orax, standing straight and at attention. "I think it is quite clear that they don't intend to respect our sovereignty. If it weren't for these walls, we may well have been overrun by now."

Hunter backs weren't meant for standing completely erect, and he was quite uncomfortable at the moment. But he respected Nemesis too much to show any laxity in his presence. If it wasn't for the massive being who ruled with an iron fist, the city might have collapsed into utter anarchy decades ago.

"Damn bugs." replied Nemesis. "Are we equipped to take on a full assault?"

"We've been reinforcing the city walls with layers of plated steel and have a glut of weaponry, sir. An air assault would completely fail, and an attack from the ground would suffer massive casualties. That being said, a blockade would devastate us. Trade is the lifeblood of this city, and our underground meat gardens won't feed the entire populace for very long if a siege keeps supplies from coming in. Social unrest would be bad, as this is a multi-species city and many neighborhoods are almost little cities unto themselves. This is not a place with a lot of community spirit."

"Wouldn't the fear of becoming slaves to the parasites be enough incentive?" said Nemesis.

"To a certain extent, but if things got bad enough, panic might set in. We might even have factions who want to let in the Plagas to get special treatment from them."

"Continue with your work in the fortifying the city. Also, reinforce the outposts and have them conduct raids on some of Majinia's remote villages. I especially want Godhand to be in our possession; take back the other fingers whatever way you can. We show worms things any sign of weakness and they _will_ attack. If we can hold the northern copper strip, that will force the Majini on the defensive and leave their entire southern border at risk. We cannot hope to destroy them, but we can at least prevent an invasion of our territory if we make it clear that messing with us is more trouble than it's worth. And contact Tetu in Blackbadge; we need all the help we can get."

Those fucking bugs, he thought angrily to himself, his brow furrowing. They just couldn't be happy with the huge empires they already had, they had to gobble up even more land for themselves. At least the Majini weren't as bad as those Illuminados folks who felt it was their religious duty to conquer the world. Even the other Plagas generally stayed away from them. Still, if any sort of order was to be brought to the world, all of the Plagas, Majini and Ganados alike, had to be cut down to size.


	3. Flames from the Hand of God

Part 3: Flames from the Hand of God

"_Blood like fuel is fed to the fire, inspired by faces in the flames."_ –Steve Von Till, _This River_

The air was filled with the sound of gunfire, explosions, and the screeching of a thousand devils. On the eastern "finger" of Godhand, Godite militiamen fought valiantly against an onslaught of Majini. Well, they weren't really men, but rather a mixture of Uplifted Zombies, Hunters, two Lickers, and a few Ganados. Despite being hopelessly outnumbered by hundreds of Majini, they fought on, for they knew if this finger was taken, Majinia would hold all of Godhand and would have a direct line of attack straight into the territory of Godface.

Godhand was a semi-natural formation that partly straddled a large strip of land which contained numerous copper deposits. Few were interested in mining the copper, but the area created a viable natural border between Majinia and the realm of Godface. Key to securing this region was Godhand. From the sky, Godhand appeared to be an open hand with four fingers, two pointing northeast, one west, and one southwest. This design was created by a series of cliffs, trenches, rocky hills, and small military outposts. The "palm" was a plain of massive boulders and a small flat area. Control of the area had varied over time, and this was not likely to change any time soon, as both sides had a vested interest in seizing it. Were Majinia to hold it, the outposts to the south would have been extremely hard-pressed to prevent military incursions on the part of the empire, and several of Godface's vital trade routes would have been in serious jeopardy of being blocked. Were Godface to control the area, Majinia's southernmost villages would have been wide open to attack, as most of that country's forces were massed in the east and along the border with Canada.

As of the moment, Orax's men held the south-western finger, while the Majinians held the northeast ones. The western finger had been made into something of a no man's land, lined with mines and booby traps of all sorts. The palm was mostly empty, though the Godites (the name given to denizens of Godface) had managed to keep the Majini out of most of it. Still, they barely had a toe hold in it due to the difficult terrain, and the fact that they were stretched extremely thin already.

All along the side of the finger, Majni forces pounded away at the Godite militiamen. The high, thick rock walls layered with clay made it difficult for the shells to cause much damage. Due to the shape of the structure, there was no easy way for the Majini to launch an attack, and the Godites were able to shoot down any enemy soldiers that tried to climb the walls. On the other hand, the defenders' forces were stretched very thin as they desperately tried to cover all points of the long strip of land.

The Majinian soldiers on the ground frothed at the mouth, desperate to rip into their enemies. Some were in such a state of fury that blood flew out of their mouth. In between salvos, they roared at the defenders with their bizarre four-leafed mouths. Some yelled obscenities and insults, but many just shrieked and hissed in rage. Despite their vaunted intelligence, in the heat of battle, one was clearly reminded that at their very heart, they were vicious, predatory beasts that sought to eradicate anyone that even hinted at being a threat. They were Hannibal Lecter without the classical music, Joseph Goebbels without the cultural refinement. They were the very definition of monsters.

Back on the cliffs, the Godite soldiers continued to struggle against incredible odds. Occasionally, they would respond with their own jeers, as the Lickers would sometimes give out loud hisses, and the Hunters would snarl and bare their teeth at the attackers. But on the whole, they kept their heads down, crouching to keep safe from the flying bullets and shrapnel.

"I don't know how much more of this we can take!" yelled Pvt. Jelu Sikle. He was a tall Zombie armed with an X54 Assault Rifle. Sikle had served in the militia for three years, and had seen his fair share of action against nomadic raiders and cattle thieves. But none of that compared to this. He had a feeling that he would soon be joining the ranks of the fully dead.

_By Mokoroth and the gods of the walking dead, if this be the day I die, let me go down fighting, not the captured prisoner of the filthy Majini!_

"We hold the line here, or Godface will be ripe for attack." said Sgt. Gringor, another Endead (shorted for enlightened undead, a sentient Zombie). More specifically he was a Crimson Head who had served in the militia for over ten years. He was not going to have the city's most important line of defense broken under his watch.

_Nemesis better send reinforcements soon. We cannot hold out like this for more than a few hours more._ Orax had never let them down before, but Godface had many enemies, and who knows what other places troops were needed. Still, on the day they had joined the militia, Orax had personally told the recruits that he would have them do nothing that he wasn't willing to do personally.

"You all have sworn your lives to protect this city and her people. You are to live, to fight, and if need be, to die in her defense. But do not think for a second that you are expendable. You are not drones fighting for some monolithic state that cares not for individuals, but only for institutions. You are free citizens of Godface who will fight for your freedom and the freedom of others. You are not slaves, but brothers in arms. I may be your commander, but I am also your brother, and when that time comes, I will follow you into battle and I will go with you into Mokoroth's ivory halls as we fall smiting our people's enemies." Those words would always stick with Gringor until the day he died. Which looked like it might be today.

Armored dune buggies zipped around the embankments, lobbing grenades at the top of the walls. The Godite soldiers fired back with HEI rounds. The defenders were taking down dozens of Majini, but they did not have the energy or the manpower to stop them all. Every couple minutes, there would be a scream, and another soldier along the walls would fall.

A number of large containers were fired at the cliff's walls, burying into craggy fortifications partially, but not detonating as was. Instead, from their tops, hatches opened and several dozen plagafied six legged creatures crawled out and began to scale the walls. On their backs were mounted heavy machine guns.

"Drain Demos!" shouted one soldier. The troops up top began to fire downwards at the ascending monsters. They took out the monstrous flea creatures one by one, but it was slow going, as the Demos were packing a good deal of firepower, repeatedly forcing the Godites to hide behind their defenses. Meanwhile on the surface, the Majinian artillery cannons began to swivel in place for another shelling.

Suddenly, one of the cannons exploded. Then another. High above Godhand were four military choppers that rained fire down upon the Majini. In the distance, a large force of armored jeeps and troop transports rolled towards the Majini army at top speed, opening fire on their lines. With hardly any of Majini were aiming their weapons outward towards the desert, they were unable to respond effectively to the new threat. Countless numbers of their reserve forces were cut to pieces in minutes, with the remaining surging forward for protection, throwing the front lines into chaos. As the vehicles closed in on the Majinian army, several of the transports opened up, and Godite soldiers poured out.

When humans moved over to mechanized warfare, hand-to-hand combat had all but disappeared within a few centuries. Not so for these creatures, who were just as instinctual and physically imposing as their ancestors were 1,500 years ago. The fight soon became a blur of teeth and claws, as the armies ripped into each other with abandon. They may have developed intelligence, but deep down, they had all of the instincts of the original B.O.W.'s that had been grown in the labs of Umbrella and Tricell.

Out of one the carriers stepped Orax himself. With a portable plasma cannon in his hands, he took aim at one of the Majini dune buggies and blew it to pieces. All around him, Lickers and Hunters savagely ripped into the Majini, severed body parts flying every which way. The Majini responded by pulling out their large machetes, and hacking away at the Godites. Meanwhile, those enemies far apart from each other continued to fire at each other with the most advanced weapons known to monster. From the top of the finger, the militiamen, their morale now greatly boosted by the arrival of the reinforcements, rained down fire on the imperial lines. The whole scene was a perfect synthesis of modern and ancient styles of warfare, the Cyber Age and the Stone Age flowing together in a dance of blood and death. Caught between the newly arrived reinforcements and the gunfire from the cliffs, the remaining Majini were slowly pushed back, and finally fled towards the northeast fingers.

A cheer went up from behind the cliffs. A few minutes later, Sgt. Gringor went out to meet with Orax.

_I knew he wouldn't abandon us._ Gringor would follow the old lizard to hell and back, and despite the fact that they were still outnumbered due to the Majini forces stationed on the other fingers, he knew deep down that they would win the day. Once again, Mokoroth had smiled upon the righteous.

"I can't tell you enough how much we needed your help, sir. I'm not sure how much longer we would have lasted. We're running low on ammunition and medical supplies, and we have more wounded than able-bodied. There are a handful of reinforcements stationed in the palm region, but if you hadn't shown up, they would not have made much difference"

"Well I knew that you wouldn't have given up, son." replied Orax, returning Gringor's salute. "Nemesis has designated this fortress to be the highest priority in the defense of Godface." he replied. "Holding this part of it was crucial, but he has ordered an offensive against the other fingers. As long as one Majini is left alive in Godhand, our people aren't secure. We have enough medical supplies to help your wounded, but we need to move quickly on retaking the rest of this area. If the Majinians are able to send for help, we will be doomed, and so will all of Godface."

"My men and I have actually been formulating a plan to retake the entire area." said Gringor. "We just weren't able to put it into action until you arrived." As they walked toward the mobile command center, the sergeant continued. "The Majini won't know what hit them." 

Meanwhile, many miles away to the south…

The wandering Omnites had finally reached their destination. It was the remains of an old Spanish-style town that had been built along the former border between Texas and Mexico. The former settlement had now been turned into the Omnites' most scared shrine.

All throughout the town, the bones of the dead (mostly humans but a few monster corpses as well) lay strewn in a high ritualistic manner. In the center of the town lay the main part of the shrine. It was a mess of corpses glued together to give the appearance of life, but the final result was a ghastly collage of death. On the ground were a number of small wooden figures, each representing different deities. Their central placement was to show their importance in the grand scheme of things, but their small size relative to the corpses was to represent how even they were not as great as their ultimate plan of extinction.

The pilgrims stripped off their rags and exposed themselves to the burning sun. They then poured boiling water on their back to increase the pain. However, none of them made a single sound or grimaced in a manner than would indicate discomfort. To them, this was the ultimate expression of their devotion to the gods' plan, and how to give yourself in fully to all life had to throw at you was the penultimate way of showing piety. They kneeled there in the Sun, and stayed their motionless as the scorching day gave way to the chilling night.


	4. Interlude: A Brief History of Godface

Interlude: A Brief History of Godface

"_I'm nailed to the crossroads searching for the piece of me that wasn't mine, blood dripping from my hands."_ – Neurosis, _The Doorway_

Godface was not initially meant to be a city, but rather, a massive temple dedicated to the High God Mokoroth. Work on it was started in 493 AD by the Followers of Mok, members of a cult who reject worship in all other gods except Mokorth. While most creatures are polytheistic to various degrees, the idea of a massive temple devoted to the Supreme Lord was very popular, and resources poured in from all over the world. Work was slow going, as only the Followers were allowed to do the actual contruction. In 504, the temple was nearing completion; it was meant to have multiple shrines and chapels to Mokoroth, a library, living quarters for the Followers, and winding Halls of Reflection where different designs would be painted to reflect the various deeds and attributes of the god.

The Scourge War put an end to this work, as the majority of Followers were killed in the conflict. Believed that they had done something to anger the god, the survivors abandoned the project. For almost twenty years, the site remained vacant except for a few wild animals and the occasional vagrant. No one knew what to do with the place. The building materials were valuable, but no one dared to demolish something that had Mokoroth's face on it. Also, many were too afraid to actually live in it for fear of bringing down divine wrath.

Then, in 530, a T-1 Tyrant and some Hunters decided to carve homes out of the massive structure. When they were not struck down from heaven, displaced individuals from all around flooded into the empty structure. Though neighborhoods quickly became segregated on the basis of race (a common occurrence in most post-Dawn multiracial cities), there were no restrictions as to who could enter the city. For about two hundred years, the city basically had no government, as the different neighborhoods largely ran themselves. In 736, Godface fell under the control of the Confederation of Li (a Licker government), that sought to turn the city into a Licker-only metropolis. This was obviously met with great resistance on the part of the non-Licker populations. Moreover, the Confederation alienated the native Lickers by seeking to end their traditional autonomy by getting rid of their town council and appointing a regional governor. In early 739, the entire city revolted and expelled the Confederation. In its wake, the Godface Congress was established. Its first order of business was to declare equal rights for all members of the city. While the Congress no longer exists, the original laws that it passed are still largely in place. For the next four hundred and fifty years, this body would control Godface, handling all city-wide matters but delegating much authority to local neighborhoods.

This period is considered by many to be Godface's golden age. New trade routes were forged that brought in much wealth, and the territory that Godface controlled expanded. In 910, the military stronghold now known as Godhand was founded as a key fortress in the north. Small settlements and towns were established outside of the city itself that brought in new tax revenue. Also, the city's original religious mission was rediscovered somewhat, as pilgrims began to see the city's prosperity as a sign of divine favor and started to visit. Unfortunately, as they rejected the city's secular status, they would often stay on the outside and pray rather than going inside, thus not adding to the city's in-flow of foreign wealth.

The rise of Great Majinia put an end to this era. The massive and well-organized armies of Irving II in the late twelfth century successfully united most Majini factions and embarked on a campaign of world conquest. As Godface was relatively close to the Empire's territory, the city was first ignored by the Majini as something that could be dealt with later. However, once West Africa, Siberia, and the bulk of North America had been conquered, the Majini turned their attention towards Godface. Their armies swiftly took the city's northernmost territories, and then besieged Godhand. After five months, the fortress finally surrendered, and all inside were massacred.

The slaughter at Godhand sparked both panic and anger within Godface. Public outcry was turned towards the city's local Majini population. Though they had few ties with Great Majinia, the Godite Majini became the victims of violent riots and pogroms. Soon, this violence was turned against other Plagas in the city, then those who belonged to species that were seen as allies of Great Majinia. The metropolis descended into chaos, with the Congress unable to restore order. Under these circumstances, no real effort was made to combat the Majini army, and soon, it was stationed just a few miles outside the city.

In 1201, out of the chaos emerged the powerful Xelax, a Tyrant who is credited with saving the city. He belonged to the same strain of Tyrant as the infamous Mr. X had, and was a lieutenant in the Godhand militia. He and a group of loyal militiamen broke into the Congress during session and had everyone arrested on the charges of betraying the trust of the people of Godface. He then set himself up as dictator, and through a combination of intense propaganda and terror, he managed to restore a modicum of civilized life. His next task was to build as large and well-trained an army as possible, spending the next two years drilling the recruits.

It is believed by many that the only reason Godface did not fall during this time is that Irving did not want to directly attack the city. If a great deal of damage had been done to the facade, the provinces might rise up in revolt at the destruction of something that had the face of Mokoroth. Multiple attempts to contact the Majini inside the city and get them to open the gates failed, and trying to bribe others to do the same got nowhere. Finally, an infiltration team was sent in through the sewers. When they emerged during nighttime, they hoped to sneak through the darkened alleys to reach the main gate. However, they were discovered while passing through the Majini neighborhood. Despite the abuse heaped upon them by their fellow citizens, the Godface Majini had no desire to be subjects to the Empire and fell upon the saboteurs, ripping them to pieces. In the wake of this, most anti-Majini attitudes in the city subsided.

Despite this victory, the army outside the walls greatly outnumbered the city's militia. Thus it was a stroke of luck when Irving died and the Empire erupted into civil war. The best elements of the army were recalled to Great Majinia, leaving a rump force behind. Xelax took advantage of this opportunity, and leaving out a back entrance, he and his forces took a long, circuitous route that positioned them behind the Majini. On the morning of April 3, 1203, his army made a surprise attack on the imperial encampments. The Battle of Godface was an incredibly bloody affair, but when it was over, the vast majority of the imperials lay dead, with the remainder scattering. Xelax was acclaimed as a savior, and he was made Dictator for Life. In his first act, he rededicated the city to Mokoroth and had a large cathedral built in the god's honor. He also created the Council of the People to replace the Congress. The Council, like the Congress, represented all of the different neighborhoods and ran most of the day to day affairs of the city. However, any of its decisions could be revoked by the Dictator and it had no authority in areas concerning national security.

With the Majinian Civil War still raging, Xelax took the opportunity to reconquer the now lightly manned Godhand. The battle was relatively quick and easy, though he realized that most the northern territory was mostly not defendable and lost for good. He thus reset the border at the Copper Strip, where it remains for the most part to this day.

Xelax ruled Godface for about two hundred years. On his death, his appointed successor was a Chimera who was a greatly respected councilman but something of a weak personality. The Council began to exert more authority in ways it wasn't used to, which led to a gradual uptick in public disorder (though crime had always been bad in the city) and a neglect of the border. In 1411, a blitz attack by Majinia allowed the principality to take back Godhand, though they weren't able to go much further. This led to the rise of Nemesis. Not much is known about his early life or how this duplicate of the original Nemesis had arrived in Godface. What was known was that like Xelac, he too was an officer in the militia. As a popular figure known for his fercocious temperament in battle, he called for Godites to reclaim their former glory and have a strong leader once again lead the government. Seeing the writing on the wall, the Chimera resigned in exchange for being able to retire peacefully. Nemesis then launched a siege of Godhand that returned it to Godface control in about two months. He also created a more powerful police force that managed to put down some of the more violent criminal syndicates, though petty crime still remained a serious problem.

Godhand has gradually seen a return to prosperity, though it can hardly be called a golden age. Bandits have recently plagued some of the city's outermost provinces, requiring military action. In the wake of this, Majinia has been able to take back part of Godhand. Nemesis has sworn to reverse this, and to drive the enemies from the country once and for all.


	5. Bloody Horizons

Part 4: Bloody Horizons

"_There is a candle in the window, of the old thatched house_

_Mother said it was a beacon, on this night of the hunt."_

- Steve Von Till, _The Wild Hunt_

The commanders of the Godite miltia sat in the mobile command center. There was an air conditioner running, but it didn't do much good in the sweltering heat. Still, no amount of desert heat could warm the coldness they felt in their hearts. Despite Orax's reinforcements, they were still outnumbered by the Majini, and if their enemy was reinforced soon, they would stand no hope of victory whatsoever. It would take a swift, brilliantly played assault to take all of Godhand.

Sgt. Gringor rolled out a map of the region.

"The assault on the Majinian strongholds needs to be fast, furious, and from multiple angles all at once. We do not have the resources to attack both fingers at the same time. Moreover, the final finger is lined with mines, and it would take more time than we have to disable them all. Fortunately, if we play it right, those mines will be the imperials' undoing. Lieutenant?"

Lt. Alvarez stepped forward. He was a short Ganado whose family had been in Godface since the earliest days of its settlement.

"The palm of Godhand has been lightly garrisoned with no more than a handful of Majini since our reinforcements arrived. They are there to do little more than try to intimidate us, as they could not survive a full-on assault. Still, they would alert the enemy-controlled fingers of any attempt on our part to take the palm. As control of the palm is crucial to our victory, we need to take it quietly and under the cover of night with a small squad of men. Neutralizing them there will then give us a direct line of assault into the two fingers."

"That being said, even having the advantage of not having to climb the walls from the plains, taking both fingers would still be too difficult to attack immediately from the palm. We need a diversion of some kind, and this is where the western finger will come into play." He moved his right index finger to the plain just west of that finger.

"A small force will circle around there and fire several grenades into the finger, which will set off the mines. This will cause troops from westernmost northeast finger to be sent over to plug up any holes in the defenses. Our diversionary force will then hunker down and engage the enemy but will make no move to push forward. Bereft of many soldiers, the troops that have taken the palm, who by then will have been reinforced by more of our men, will storm that finger and will seize its main cannons. The Majinian soldiers who had gone to hold the western finger will be totally exposed, and we will be able to blow them to pieces."

Moving his finger to the left he continued to one of the western fingers.

"This will leave the Majini with only one finger in their possession. Our men in the occupied finger will open fire on it using the captured cannons. We are in luck that the finger that our men will have captured is significantly more fortified on top than the one the Majini will have. In a firefight between the two, they will stand no chance. This assault shall be supplemented from soldiers on the plain who will fire up at the Majini-held finger with our AVX heavy artillery. If this all goes according, the battle will all be over very shortly."

"This all needs to move like clockwork, given the enemy's numerical superiority" said Sgt. Gringor. "Majinia probably won't try to retake this fortress for a while if our attack is successful. They have enough problems fending off the other empires, and they see us as largely a sideshow. That being said, if we aren't successful, the Majinians will think that Godface is an easy target, will push us out of Godhand with superior numbers and resources, and will probably begin a blockade of the city's territory."

"We set out in 0200 hours, with a picked squad of ten men seizing the palm" said Sgt. Orax. "Remember that the fate of our country hinges on our actions this night. May the gods watch over us all."


	6. Eyes

Part 5: Eyes

"_The winds outside are change. Shadows move across the floor, echoing the light."_

- Steve Von Till, _To The Field_

Melekath parked his horse outside of the old house of his relatives in Godface. Before he went in, he gave Aburson a salt and vitamin pack to eat. A normal horse would have eaten it with his mouth, but as this one was plagafied, its snout instead opened up like a flower, and a long tongue came out and pulled the pack in. Then the mouth closed, and Aburson looked again just like a regular horse.

_This place hasn't changed a bit._ Melekath's relatives lived in a small, two story house on the western side of the city. It didn't look like much, but that was to be expected, as its original purpose was to house several monks, individuals not known for being ostentatious. The building had a rectangular shape with rounded edges. It was a yellowish brown, made from hardened mud and clay. The only color to be found was a small flag of Godface that hung from one of the walls, as well as the laundry drying on the roof. There were four windows, two on the top floor and two on the bottom, all of them on the front of the house. They were very small, but still lined with steel bars. Likewise, the door was heavily reinforced to; Godface was a tough town, and one had to make sure that their homes were locked down.

He hadn't been here in over three years due to his traveling. The occupants were his cousins Riketh and Baro, and his Baro's wife Mera. The home of Melekath's own brother in Detroit was much larger and grander than Riketh's, but he somewhat preferred this one more as being more cozy. He had never really been comfortable around luxury.

Going up to the door, Melekath knocked.

"Who is it?" a gruff voice from inside said.

"Someone to kill you and feast on your flesh." Melekath replied.

The door unlocked and opened, and standing there was Riketh, a tall, dark-skinned Majini.

"Melekath, you worthless shitstain, you came!"

"You knew that I would come back to torment you someday, cousin" Melekath said laughing. The two embraced.

"Mera, Baro, Melekath is here!" From another room came another man and a woman. They were both portly but muscular. Like Melekath they were more light-skinned that Riketh, though they weren't directly to him like Riketh was. Plagas played havoc with traditional patterns of human phenotypes.

"So, I guess the great worms still haven't gotten you after all this time" spoke Baro in a deep voice

"Nonsense, Baro." said Mera, grinning ear to ear. "Melekath has been traveling for so many years that he knows all the safe paths."

"There is no truly safe path out there, only ones that are slightly less dangerous." Melekath replied.

"Well you're here and that's all that matters." said Riketh. "Come, Mera was just setting the table for dinner."

The kitchen was separated from the living room by a thin wall. The only door in the whole house was the front door. Though they had inherited a portion of humans' predilections towards privacy, Plagas were hive creatures, and thus not a biologically individualistic. They thus most saw things such as doors inside structures that were not meant for purely functional purposes to be frivolous things, even offensive to a certain extent.

The table has already been set by the time Melekath had arrived, with food spread out that only the most predatory beings could ever hope to appreciate. What would have been considered a perfectly respectable meal for a Plaga would have repulsed most humans. Like most post-Dawn creatures, Plagas did not cook their food, but instead ate it raw. Their kind had been doing so for centuries. Unlike many other species, Plagas took the time to set the table and generally ate with utensils just as humans had. They also used a great deal of spices. Thus the table was a mixure of bowls that contained uncooked hands, hearts, eyeballs, and half a brain, all of it finely marinated. For a human, the sight would have been grotesque beyond imagination, the stench inducing instant nausea. For these Majini, it was a meal fit for a king.

After they sat down, Mera turned to Melekath.

"Would you like to lead us in the blessing?" she asked.

"I would be honored." They all bowed their heads. "Mokoroth and spirits of our greatest forebears, look well upon this blood harvest and make it nourish us in standing against the impure. Amen." They all then dug in, with the various bowls passed around the table.

"How has your business gone?" asked Melekath. Riketh and his housemates ran a small metalworking business in a shop about a block down.

"Quite well actually." replied Riketh. "Because of the recent border conflicts, the militia is always putting in orders for new ammo and supplies. The larger factories handle most of the work, but due to the pressure the city's been under from Majinia, the military has been willing to contract with anybody who's willing to put together half-usable weapons and armor. We're busy all the time. I hate to say it, but war puts food on our table."

"I bet our life pales in contrast to the strange sights your must see in your travels." said Baro, eager to get on the subject the world outside the city. He had always wanted to be a traveler, but his asthma had forced him to stay in the city, so he lived vicariously through the stories Melekath told. "Have any adventures in the great wasteland since the last time you were here?"

"I hate to disappoint you, but nothing too special. I ran into some pure Zombies and took their personal belongings. Other than that and a few Omnite pilgrims, it's been pretty peaceful on the road. I did have to kill a Bandersnatch that tried to rob me, but it was nor problem dispatching him. Also, I've made an effort to keep away from the main roads to the north. The imperial highway patrols will squeeze the life out you to get toll money."

"Those mindless Zombies." said Riketh. "You can get anything off of them if you dare to get close. Sometimes I wish none of the zombies and been Uplifted. That way we could rob them all with no consequences."

"How rude!" replied Mera, glaring at Riketh. "If that was the case, then almost half of the Godface militia would not exist. They may be filthy, rotten corpses, but Endeads are some of the most trustworthy beings out there, maybe even more trustworthy than Majjini."

Mera was pretty by human standards; not gorgeous, but attractive to a certain extent. To most Majini men, she would have been considered ravishing. The Type 2 and Type 3 Plagas, which were the basis for all Majini, were not as compatible with human female bodies as were the Type 1's that birthed Ganados. Because of this, female Majini were considered a rare prize. Baro was incredibly lucky, as most males had to reproduce asexually by regurgitating a spore that would grow up to be a human-based Majini (this type of reproduction had emerged after there had been no more humans to infect). The vast majority of the male Majini population had resigned themselves to this, though they were always on the lookout for the rare female.

_In all my travels, I've only come across four females, and they were all taken._ Melekath knew that he shouldn't let it bother him, as his likelihood of ever finding a mate was less than 0.0035%. Still, it got lonely out in the wastelands. He shook his head, pushed the thoughts away, and returned his mind to the conversation at hand.

"Trust, now that's something that's not in heavy circulation." Melekath answered. "What of local events? I heard that there has been an increase in hostilities between Godface and Majinia."

Baro chimed in. "Yeah, we've been fighting with them for control of Godhand recently. They still think it's the days of Irving the Great. Those damn imperials actually have had the nerve to covertly send in recruits to the Majini and Ganado neighborhoods to try to get recruits for their army. Most of them have been discovered expelled from the city, but the Majinians will undoubtedly keep trying. The emperor in Chicago just can't understand that there are many Plagas out there who don't want to live under his slavery. We've always been stronger in the long run when we stick together in small groups where everyone knows each other, not in vast, impersonal empires. And fuck the fanatical imperial ideology of turning the Earth into nothing but a Majini hive! I mean, who wants to live in a world where everyone has a Plaga parasite? I am not ashamed of my heritage, but I like the fact that not everyone out there is linked together in some large super-hive. I enjoy diversity and having to deal with different kinds of people."

"I thought that Majinia had decreed tolerance for all species" Melekath inquired.

"Those laws are still on the books, yes" replied Riketh. "However, now that the Great Majinia is fractured and the empire which Godface now borders is more ethnically homogenous, many imperial officials feel that placating non-Majini communities is not that important. More conservative religious leaders are running the imperial church these days, and there have been report of forced infections taking place sporadically in some of the provinces. And even though toleration is till officially practiced, the old imperial creed of eventually converting the whole world never went off the books."

"Unfortunately," he continued, "there are some here who think that deep down we all support the empire. A Majini was beaten up last week by some Hunters. Things aren't nearly as bad as they were right before the rise of Xelax, but if there isn't some kind of settlement with Majinia soon, tensions could flare up. I'm afraid we might be seeing some difficult times ahead."

The Pogroms; a period of time forever etched on the minds of every Majini who had deep roots in Godface. During the siege of Irving II, frightened citizens had taken out their fears and frustrations on the local Majini populace. Majini were beaten to death in the street in front of police officers who did nothing, or who occasionally even joined in. It had only been the crucial efforts of several Majini in stopping imperial saboteurs that had calmed the violence. Since then, there hadn't been any real problems for the community. But there were still pockets of individuals scattered throughout the city who held some mistrust for the Majini living in Godface. They were largely ignored and unorganized…at the moment.

_These are good people, how could anyone think to question their loyalty?_ But in his life, Melekath had seen a great deal of intolerance and how it blinded people's eyes to reality. Like all Majini, he was fiercely devoted to his clan, and he would defend them ferociously, even at the cost of his own life.

_Maybe my time on this Earth is destined to be shorter than I anticipated…_


	7. Interlude: A Brief History of the Majini

Interlude: A Brief History of the Majini

"_My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings. Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair."_

Percy Bysshe Shelly, _Ozymandias_

**Part 1: Beginnings and the Rise and Fall of Lovakon**

From a technical standpoint, Majinis are an artificial species. Plaga and leech DNA spliced together in the Tricell labs created a new, more deadly species of Las Plagas which devastated the small African country of Kijuju. The Majini were reputedly faster, stronger, and more intelligent than the original Type 1 Plagas that had birthed the Ganados, and they had no ideological ties to Los Illuminados. After the death of Wesker, the contaminated area continued to be quarantined, with the international community divided on how the crisis should be resolved.

The subsequent global monster outbreak and the Dawn made this question a moot point. As one of the most intelligent of the new species and made ever more self-aware by the Dawn, Majinis spread to every corner of the globe, their numbers exploding. Communities sprang up everywhere that were a fusion of Plaga worldviews and older human cultures (as Plagas absorb many characteristics of their hosts). They soon came into conflict with other creatures that were establishing themselves, including the Ganados. Many within the Majini community wanted to work with the other Plagas, while others saw them as an inferior race that was good for little more than manual labor. How the two Plaga peoples should interact with each other is a source of debate that continues to this day.

Until about 50 AD, there was little written history about how the Majini organized their communities. It is known that most of them lived in small city states and villages, with the largest populations being in West Africa, the former United States, and Central Asia. Until the other creatures began to organize themselves, the Majini felt little need to form large confederations. As per their biological imperatives, they spread out and infested whatever organisms they could, but following the extinction of the last humans, they felt little need to aggressively conquer territory. Indeed, for the most part, they simply moved into abandoned towns and cities and made them their own.

This changed with the rise of other species, most notably the Zombies and the Hunters. In 62 AD, the Alliance of Lovakon was formed in Central Asia and Eastern Europe encompassing the former Ukraine, small chunks of southwestern Russia, Kazakhstan, and Georgia to combat the rise of an aggressive Zombie principality that had come to conquer much of former Tajikistan, Pakistan, India, and Bangladesh. Along the eastern coastline of the former United States, Majini and Ganados came together to create the Vanguard to fight off heavy Hunter and Chimera attacks from the Midwest. Inspired by this, Majini in northern South America, West Africa, and the Mediterranean Basin all began to organize and stake out the borders of their lands. For the most part, these were voluntary arrangements with little armed coercion on the part of some Majini towns against others. In later centuries, as Majini states became more established with their own traditions, conflicts would ensue with many resisting the overlordship of more powerful neighbors.

Initially, these groupings were purely defensive in nature, but soon they began to push outwards. In 110 AD, Lovakon launched a major invasion into India, bringing much of Asia under its direct rule, and exacting tribute from as far away as Korea and Indonesia. This victory brought about great social change, as the Lovakonians came into contact with states that that were absolute monarchies in the style of the Mughal emperors. Up until that point, Lovakon had been a confederation ruled military and political leaders that represented all of the Alliance's member states. Upon seeing the gilded palaces of the Zombie Rajputs and their king, the superstitious Majini came to believe that this was the most divine form of governance, and sought out to crown the best among the Lovakon leadership.

The Majini selected was a general from the eastern Ukraine named Mikorvi whose military expertise had been crucial to victory in the siege of New Dehli. In addition to his skills as a leader, he was an incredibly devout individual who never took credit fro his victories, but always said that it was due to the will of Zilorix, then the Majini god of war. Put together, the leaders of the Alliance felt that he was talented enough to be a strong ruler, but not haughty enough to be a tyrant. In 111, he was crowned Mikorvi I, King of Lovakon and Emperor of the Majini. He was the first Plaga monarch and arguably the first absolute ruler of any Plaga people since Osmund Saddler. Biologically, he was a Master Plaga, and thus was born to lead others of his species. The authority of Masters Plagas had not been absolute. They had often served as community leaders and military commanders, but up until Mikorvi's coronation, they had mostly treated each other as equals whose rank was purely based on their prowess in battle. They had even at times been led by non-Masters who were forceful and skilled enough to successfully run a state. The willingness of other Masters to submit their authority voluntarily to another was a big step in the growing political sophistication of monsters everywhere.

By the time of his death, Mikorvi had an empire that stretched from Turkey to China. Many Majini communities in other parts of the world recognized him as the ruler of the entire race even if he did not actually exert authority over them. He granted toleration to other creatures living within his borders (meaning, he allowed them to go about their business without have a Plaga spore shoved down their throat). Still, zealots would carry out forced "conversions" and revolts were endemic. Though the Emperor's personal authority was unquestioned, many local communities were given wide latitude in setting their own laws and customs. This was due to inefficient infrastructure in certain provinces, hampering the ability of the central government to enforce order. On his deathbed, Mikorvi's final wish was that no more territory be added to the Empire, for fear that it would not survive being overstretched.

His son Mikorvi II instead completely ignored his father's wishes and launched a major invasion of the Balkans in 136. Majini forces penetrated as far west as former Austria, but this left other areas of the empire completely undefended. A major revolt of Zombies in 138 in southern India, coupled with attacks from Lickers in Thailand, plunged the eastern half of the empire into chaos. The other Masters demanded for their grievances to be heard so that a solution to the chaos could be found. The Emperor agreed in 143, but he had no real intention of actually changing his plans. Meeting in the ruins of Kiev, the Masters did not hide their anger, demanding that troops be taken out of Europe to defend the Asian provinces. The conclave was massive, as Majini leaders from all over the world came; ones from areas outside the empire did not have any say in the proceedings, though that did not stop some of them from stating their mind regardless.

Instead of trying to come to an agreement, the Emperor used the innate ability that all Master Plagas have to mentally control their subjects to force all of the Majini in the room to bow to him and to swear their allegiance to him and his plans for world domination. He succeeded, but it was a terrible strain on his body and mind. When one of the barons resisted, this was too much for Mikorvi and he died instantly from an aneurysm. The baron, Rothmor, was acclaimed as Emperor; from then on, Kiev was the city where all Lovakonian emperors were crowned. His first act was to pull all troops out Europe west of the Aegean. These soldiers were then able to restore control over most of India and expel the Lickers. Unfortunately, he died childless eight years later. The nobles then went to Kiev again to vote on a new leader. They chose a Majini duke name Middin. He was a rather weak ruler who over saw the losses of nearly all of the provinces that had been won by Mikorvi I, which either seceded to form their own states or were overwhelmed by foreign powers. In 155, Lovokan barely managed to fight off a massive invasion from a nomadic army of Ganados that had come down from northern Russia. The general who defeated the Ganados at the Battle of the Cold was crowned Emperor at Kiev later that year. His original name is not known; upon his coronation, he took the name royal name Mikorvi, and the dynasty of Lovakon has stayed in his family ever since. The core of the empire became increasingly inward looking as the years went by, and largely retreated from international affairs. Majini influence in the area declined until the arrival of Great Majinia under Irving II.

Nevertheless, as this empire decayed, another one was growing, right in the heart of the Majini's homeland of Kijuju.

**Part 2: Classical Majinia**

As Lovakon was sinking into long-term decline, a new Majini power was on the rise in the ruins of the small African state of Kijuju. The first country to be taken by the Majini, it had been overshadowed by the growth of other Majini states throughout the world. But in 154, the Majini there finally managed to unlock the vaults of Tricell's underground facility, giving them access to advanced prototype weapons that had been developed by Tricell just months before the arrival of Chris Redfield and Sheva Alomar. With a burgeoning population, Kijuju initiated a ten-year long war of conquest that brought the entirety of the western coast of Africa under its dominion.

At the same time, the Majini state known as the Vanguard was solidifying its position along the eastern edge of the former United States, gradually expanding deeper into the continent. By 160, it ruled roughly entire territory held by the US in 1790. Diplomatic ties between Kijuju and the Vanguard were initiated, but in 173 AD the two went to war over trade and territorial disputes in the Atlantic. It was mostly a naval conflict with some air battles, but neither side was able to win a decisive victory over the other. After four years of fighting, the two sides realized that the war was pointless, and instead decided to join together to form a supreme Majini state to monopolize control of the Atlantic. It was named Majinia (the first time the term had ever been used), and its capital was Alqazar, a city was built on the artificial continent of Blackpoint, a small landmass that was constructed by the Majini in the middle of the Atlantic. To follow in the tradition of Lovakon, they raised their own ruler to the level of Emperor in 178, a Majini who came to be known as Wesker II, as they acknowledged Albert Wesker as the first leader of the Majini.

Majinia soon became wealthy from trade and its exports of iron and ivory. For about 300 years, it was one of the great powers of the world, rivaling the Zombie Empire of Lil in Asia, the Licker kingdom of Tung in South America, and the Hunter Republic of Seth in Europe. Majinia benefited not just from the support of its own citizens, but from the backing of Majini throughout the world. Almost every Majini state allied itself with Majinia, giving the Empire influence far beyond its own borders. Also, large scale migration to the Empire of Majinia from Majini states all around the world strengthened the superpower even more. In addition to this, it also benefited from the support of many Ganados worldwide. While several Ganado states remained very wary of the colossal empire, many others saw it as a protector of all Plagas everywhere. Within Majinia, most non-Plagas were tolerated, though were treated as second-class citizens. Ganados, however, were given full political and social rights and many achieved high status within the state. These laws incurred grumbling on the part of some conservative factions, but for a long time, this equality played out well.

The period known as Classical Majinia was a flowering of arts and culture. The major cities became centers of learning, especially Alqazar, whose universities attracted students from all over the world, many of whom weren't Plagas. The metropolises were adorned with gold and ivory, and reflected the influences of multiple Plaga and human cultures. At the pinnacle of this society was the Emperor, who held absolute authority over the realm (though much power did have to be delegated to regional governors for practical purposes). During his coronation, he would be decked out in flowing gold, purple, red, and green robes. After processing through the streets of Alqazar, he would meet the High Priest of the Great Temple of Mokoroth. Disrobing completely in front of hundreds of thousands, he would then clothe himself in the ebony battle armor of the Emperors, the armor which Wesker II had crafted in the first year of his reign. The celebrations would last a week all across the Empire.

One major development during this time period was the creation of a definitive Majini religion. During the time of Lovakon, the Majini had worshipped a variety of different cults. The Emperor had served as the high priest of all of these faiths during Lovakon's zenith, but no attempt was made to unite them philosophically. When Lovakon crumbled, so to did the Emperor's religious authority. Under the rule of the Emperors Osmund III and Rikoreth I, the eight volumes of Kitabu Cha Mngu (Swahili for "God's Book") were compiled, pulling together many of the different Majini legends into one mythology. With a few noteworthy exceptions, these became the sacred texts for Majini communities almost everywhere.

The Majinian army was a powerhouse that was probably the best fighting force in the world until the mid-fourth century. Only Majini and Ganados could join the legions, though non-Plagas were encouraged to enroll in the auxiliary units. As the Atlantic Ocean took up a bulk of imperial territory, the Empire had a massive navy that completely locked down the ocean for Majinian control. Even in the Empire's last days, citizens could travel at sea and expect a good bit of safety. At its peak, the Majinian armies contained almost two million soldiers, over a million auxiliaries, and hundreds of thousands of servicemen in other branches of the military.

It is important to note that following the union of the Vanguard and Kijuju, few conquests of note occurred. In Africa, there was some greater penetration into former Nigeria, and in 214, the Floridian peninsula was annexed. But one the whole, the Majinia's borders stayed mostly static, a territorial stability which many believe helped the Empire to last as long as it did.

Despite its wealth and culture, Majinia was plagued with incessant court strife and political instability. Wesker II ruled for twenty years and was able to pass on the empire to his son, Wesker III. This successor was a weak ruler, and was deposed four years later by his chief bodyguard, Morton Fibelius. To create some sense of continuity, Morton took the name Mikorvi after the original Emperor of Lovakon. He in turn was murdered by cabal of noblemen who raised one of their own, Wesker IV, to the throne. Wesker ruled well for twelve years, but his death sparked a major succession crisis. Wesker IV's two sons, Mikorvi II and Wesker V, refused to honor his wish for them rule the empire jointly, and they instead engaged in a bloody three-year civil war. The elder son Wesker V was a formidable general who fought at the same time both his brother and an alliance of Chimera and Hunters originating from the Canadian Northwest. He was victorious on all fronts. Pushing back the invaders, and then defeating his brother whom he had burned alive in the center of Alqazar. Made undisputed Emperor in 219 AD, his dynasty ruled for three more generations. Unfortunately, the line ended with the Emperor's assassination in 260 by a disgruntled government employee who had been fired a year earlier.

Despite the somewhat rapid turnover of emperors, crowning ceremonies never lost their splendor or political grandeur. At times they seemed so common that the phrase "to have a coronation" referred to just throwing a party in general. Still, all of the glitz and glamour could not hide the serious political turmoil. The lack of any long term dynasties or the ability to peacefully have the throne pass from an individual from one family to an individual would be one of the major causes in the fall of Classical Majinia.

The roots of the destruction of the empire lay in several religious and political events in the earlier fourth century. In 303, Emperor Rikoreth II died, leaving no heir apparent. Desperate to avert a civil war, they elected a duke by the name of Vindor Eraxus. Upon coronation, he took the name of Wesker VII. He was a vibrant and intelligent ruler who sought to keep the empire at the peak of its power and to reaffirm the central authority of the throne in the face of increasingly powerful local rulers. Problem was he was a Ganado. Like all Emperors before him, he was a Master Plaga, and Ganados weren't barred from assuming the throne, so there weren't any legal problems to his rule. Still, for a Ganado to rule the most powerful Majini state rankled many throughout the Empire's upper classes, and his whole reign was filled with quashing coups and conspiracies against his rule. These problems might have blown over had it not been for the birth of two important religious movements.

The first of these were the Felusians, named after their leader Felus. While they accepted all of the volumes of the Kitabu Cha Mngu as holy, they did not see them all as being equal. Rather, they believed that the first three were the holiest, while the last five were simply clarifications of the first three. They believed that any time passages in the last five seemed to contradict those in the first three, the interpretations of the first three were deemed authoritative. This flew right in the face of Orthodox teachings that all of the volumes were equal in teaching the same truths. Felusianism was declared a heresy and banned, but its teachings continued to gain support in the easternmost African provinces.

The other was the Plagmok movement, a name derived from their basic philosophy. Plagmokians taught that Mokoroth was a Plaga, not human as was universally accepted across the world. This too was deemed a heresy and outlawed, but its followers spread among the southern provinces of the American region. Soon, Majinia was faced with two major religious schisms on both sides of the Atlantic that would not be suppressed simply through edicts.

Wesker was a tolerant individual when it came to race. As a minority himself (albeit a privileged one), he sought to protect the other species of the empire by reissuing laws forbidding forced infection and punished those who engaged in it. But when it came to religion, he was as hardline as they came. As Ganados have their own religious teachings separate from that of the Majini, it's quite likely that he did not even hear a single word of the Kitabu Cha Mngu until he was an adult. But as he had been part of the Majinian aristocracy, he had completely adopted its religious culture, and was quite serious about upholding its central tenets. Thus his response to Plagmok and Felusian teachings was to send in Kitabuan clergy backed by troops to re-convert the local populations. This only antagonized the Dissenters, and violence broke out between Dissenter and Orthodox populations. A few in the Majinian government wanted to grant a measure of religious toleration and then levy a heavy tax on the Dissenters to get them to abandon their beliefs through state-sponsored extortion, but Wesker was intransigent and would broach no dissension in any form among his Majini citizens.

It needs to be pointed out that this religious conflict was almost exclusively confined to the Majini, who made up the majority of the population. Other species had their own faiths which were protected under imperial law. Lickers, Hunters, Ganados, Zombies and others all largely stayed out of the religious wars, partly out of theological indifference and partly for fear of putting their religious liberties in jeopardy by getting involved.

Thus the empire was thrust into a civil war on two sides which would flare up with varying intensity until the Empire's end. Most Dissenters remained loyal to the empire despite persecution, but a few communities on the edge of the Empire allowed for enemy infiltration of various raiding parties, causing many of the provinces to become mostly lawless regions. The grand, learned culture of the cities remained, but the luxury afforded by the upper classes coupled with the war expenses became an increasing tax burden on the common people. Indeed, as the countryside decayed, many nobles sought to retreat further into their worlds of scholarship and luxury, creating an ever-growing social gap between the classes. Whereas before the gilded life of the cities was looked upon as something to be emulated, it was now increasingly viewed as parasitical, squeezing the lifeblood out of rural workers.

Wesker VII was long-lived, and though his reign was seen as the beginning of the troubles, most of the Empire remained relatively peaceful and prosperous while he was on the throne. His son who succeeded him in 351, Wesker VIII, was little short of an imbecile and a religious fanatic to boot. He ordered huge numbers of troops into the provinces to put down the heresies by any means necessary. Troops were allowed, and even encouraged, to butcher anyone they deemed un-Orthodox. While many Dissenters were killed, rampaging troops often preyed upon anyone whom they felt like. Anyone who had ever had any sort of dealings with a Dissenter at any point in their lives was at risk, regardless of their own beliefs. The aristocracy, though most of them hated the Dissenters, felt that this extreme bloodshed was going too far. Wesker, an unbelievably pious Kitabuan Ganado, an individual who only wore the royal robes in official occasions and instead preferred to be donned in the simple habit of a Kitabuan monk, believed that he was receiving messages directly from Mokoroth to put down the heresies. He responded to questioning of his religious policy with unbridled fury, executing most anyone who called for any sort of moderation. People were so terrified of him that despite his unpopularity he remained on the throne for almost twenty years. Then in 370, after a popular local politician was publically executed for being suspected of having Felusian sympathies, the streets of Alqazar exploded into riots, with the local garrison refusing to put them down. As a massive crowd moved in on the royal palace and with no one inside willing to support him, a terrified Emperor Wesker flung himself from the window of his bedroom, allegedly yelling "All for God!" as he fell. A jubilant crowd ripped him limb from limb and paraded his head through the streets on a stick. With Wesker having no children, the nobility raised to the throne a baron whose name has now been lost to the position of Emperor. He took the name Rikoreth III. Surprisingly, he too was a Ganado (simply because he was the only competent leader on hand). Eschewing the traditional coronation for a period of time, he ordered the immediate toleration of all Dissenting sects, provided that they pay an extra tax. The pogroms were ended, and for a period of about two years, it looked like peace and order might be returning.

But the toleration of the Felusians and the Plagmoks infuriated Orthodox reactionaries, and in 372, an organization called the Sons of God began to conduct brutal attacks on Dissenting communities. When local authorities refused to do anything, either out of fear or secret sympathy with the Sons, the Dissenters began to respond with equal violence. Once again troops were sent in, this time to promote general order and the security of all citizens, and once again, abuses occurred on their part. The violence and extortion of the soldiers was not nearly as bad as it was before, but coupled with the growing guerilla conflict, large parts of the provinces were once again thrown into chaos. The Empire might have been able to regain order once again were it not for two major developments outside the borders.

In North America, various wandering tribes of Hunters, Lickers, and Chimera had coalesced into large confederations, and these conglomerations were covetous of the Empire's wealth. The monsters pierced deep into imperial territory, looting and destroying wherever they went. Majinian troops were perpetually moving up and down the western American border, trying desperately to stop more incursions. However, imperial attention to this problem was limited due to an even greater threat in Africa. Around about 370, the various Zombie communities had come together into the Kingdom of Xel in the region of the former country of Kenya. Spreading out from their homeland, the kingdom began gobbling up small principalities, accruing an ever large army as its victories generated more recruits. Even before they reached the borders of the empire, the Zombie conquest was causing problems for it as masses of refugees crossed into the border, begging for protection and charity. This put even more pressure on already strained Majinian resources. In 383, the two powers crashed into one another when Xel annihilated a Majinian army in northwestern Republic of Congo. The Zombies then aid waste to much of Nigeria and began to head north. Rikoreth put together a massive force and was able to stop them at the Battle of Yaounde. But Nimbotu, the Zombie king, merely brought in reinforcements, and clashed once again with the Majini just north of the city a few days later. Both sides suffered massive casualties, but in the fight, Rikoreth was struck down. It was the first time that a Majinian Emperor had been ever killed in battle.

His son, Rikoreth IV, did not have to deal with Xel early in his reign, as the Zombies had to retreat somewhat to recover from their losses. But the religious violence and the raids in North America continued, hampering any chance of a meaningful recovery. When Xel began its attacks again, instead of immediately putting together another army, Rikoreth turned to religion, and not to the Kitabu. He rather sought help from the Dark Ones and their ideological relatives, the much-diminished Los Illuminados. Their rituals and prayer services that Rikoreth attended were aimed at trying to bring about divine aid for the whole Empire, but to many citizens, it looked as if the Emperor had turned from the one true religion and had instead put his faith in heathen rituals. As these cults were almost exclusively populated by Ganados and as the Emperor was a Ganado himself, a wave of anti-Ganado feeling broke out across the empire that merely piled on top of the religious conflicts. The Emperor sought to assuage the feelings that he had become an apostate by personally overseeing the Day of Mokoroth's Ascension in Alqazar, the greatest celebration in all the Empire. He also dedicated numerous temples and chapels to Mokoroth and the other Majini deities across the empire. But it wasn't enough; in 392, Rikoreth VI had his throat slashed while sleeping by an ultra-Orthodox servant of his. Following his death, Ganados were banned from becoming Emperor.

The next fifty years were an almost ceaseless cycle of violence and destruction for the empire. Emperors came and went quickly on the throne and coups and counter-coups cropped up like weed. Some Emperors wore the crown for only a few months. In this atmosphere, the formerly elaborate coronations ceremonies were drastically cut back since the state could not afford the almost non-stop partying that they would have entailed. This saved the Empire a good deal of money, but it demoralized the people as it was a visual sign of the Empire's decay and eroded at the public respect of the position of Emperor. Xel conquered almost all the land to the former borders of old Kijuju itself. A desperate struggle by the local populace stopped their advance, but most of the territory that had been won in the 150's and 60's was lost. In America, Hunters, Lickers, and Chimera managed to carve out small fiefdoms from undermanned imperial provinces. While a number of regions along the eastern seaboard remained secure due to large garrisons, they become less imperial provinces and more independent states as it became increasingly difficult for them to communicate and coordinate with one another. By now, religious violence had become a mainstay in the outermost provinces with zealots of all stripes slaughtering those whom they felt were heretics. A faded silver lining to the loss imperial central control was that in fact that many of the areas where this violence was the worst were not controlled by the empire at all, so it really didn't matter anymore from the point of view of the imperial government.

The situation was briefly reversed in the 450s when the energetic Emperor Filipian took the throne. Recruiting heavily from non-Majini, he managed to patch up many of the areas in the American sector and to return a measure of imperial control to the area. In Africa, he took advantage of turmoil within Xel to retake most of the West African coast and parts of the interior. Besieged Majini communities welcomed his assistance, with many joining his army. By 460, the rough shape of the empire had been restored, though chunks of it still remained out of its control and its core territories were closer to the seaboards than before. He also began a repair of the roads and other infrastructure and began to restructure the police force so that it could deal more effectively with banditry.

Unfortunately, this wasn't to last. In 465, he was killed by a deranged cousin who thought the Emperor was a demon. Though the empire did not immediately crumble, many of Filipian's efforts stalled as no one but himself had had the vision to fully implement them. A resurgent Xel began to assault the African portion of the Empire again, gradually breaking off pieces of it. By 471, the remaining African provinces outside of Kijuju were no longer under central control, and were cut off from imperial aid. In North America, the empire just fell apart rather peacefully, as the old pre-Filipian political structure reasserted itself.

In 473, Emperor Mikorvi VIII tried to launch an invasion of the region of former Equatorial Guinea. It failed miserably, and he was killed by a stray bullet in battle; in retaliation, King Mxeth of Xel ordered a massive bombing of the imperial capital of Alqazar. Despite the great decay that the empire had suffered, the bombing of the beautiful city shocked the world. Alqazar had once had formidable anti-air defenses, but in the centuries of security, the city's denizen had let them fall into disrepair. Much of the city was destroyed, and the imperial government relocated to a heavily fortified installation situated ten miles outside the city called Blackiron. Though safe from aerial attacks, the government was able to do little to halt the final decline of the empire, as it was rapidly being gobbled up by foreign powers or was fragmenting into independent Majini states. In 476, Emperor Wesker X moved much of his court to the province of Virginia. Virginia was still loyal to the empire, and Wesker was given a grand imperial procession into the regional capital of Williamsburg, the last such ceremony the Empire would ever see. Though his subjects were loyal, Virginia was surrounded by non-Majini powers. In 480, Lickers that lived in former Kentucky invaded the province; at the Battle of Charleston, the imperial army was defeated and Wesker was personally beheaded with the tongue of the Licker leader Ciketh. Back in Blackiron, the nobles were trying to decide who to choose to be Emperor when the army marched on the fortress to restore order. Though they were secure in the bunker, they had few soldiers to protect them and most of the aristocracy scattered in fear to their countryside estates. The remaining few agreed to stay and accept their fate without resistance. The soldiers' commander, General Montax, spared the nobles' life in exchange for them agreeing to supply his men with food from their farmlands. While many of his officers wanted him to become the next Emperor, Montax realized that that title held no power anymore and was more of a liability than anything else. Instead, he declared himself Viceroy of Blackpoint, with him having complete control over military and foreign affairs while the nobles handled domestic policy. Thus three hundred years of Majini glory came to an end.

The Majini world would then sink into a centuries-long interregnum where no one group held absolute authority, but the memory of Majinia would not die. It would someday rise up again to form some of the largest and most powerful empires ever, most prominent of which being the continent-spanning Great Majinia.

**Part 3: The Dark Ages and the establishment of Great Majinia**

For centuries after the fall of Classical Majinia, Majini largely played roles only on the local level. Zombies and Hunters became the ruling races, holding sway over large numbers of Majini. The areas that did remain independent became increasingly local in their outlook, reverting to their pre-imperial traditions. In Kijuju for example, the local king donned the robes of an ancient Ndipayan chief. The most powerful Majini state, Sao Pau, covered most of former Brazil and southern Columbia, but it made no attempt to expand further and never really made an impact on the international scene.

Nevertheless, Classical Majinia had a profound effect on the development of its successor states. In many of the areas that were not overrun when the Empire collapsed, the imperial bureaucratic system continued to operate on a smaller scale. The military was organized in the same way, and in a few former provinces, the documents continued to use imperial dating. A handful of non-Majini powers that had overrun part of the empire adopted a Majinian form of government. Moreover, Blackpoint's navy continued to provide a small modicum of security on the Atlantic.

On a cultural level, the most powerful legacy of the empire was religious. The Kitabu Cha Mngu became the standard religious text for most Majini across the world. Notable exceptions included the Plagmoks (Felusians are considered within the Kitabuan tradition) and a few communities in South America and southern Asia who clung to their old belief systems. This universality helped to further develop ties between different Majini states, setting the stage for great unification at a later date. Even a few non-Majini communities adopted the Kitabuan faith.

Nevertheless, warfare during this period was endemic. Oftentimes Majini states fought each other just as much as they did other species.

The first rumblings of a resurgence came in 801 in the wake of the collapse of the Licker-run Confederation of Li. Several Majini communities in the former Mid-Atlantic and Upper South eastern United States banded together to form the Republic of Mar. The Republic stretched roughly from Pennsylvania to Kentucky, and then down to North Carolina, encompassing everything in the middle. For the next two centuries, it would hold this territory as an autonomous state, gradually growing in wealth and influence. It granted religious tolerance to all, although tax money did go toward the upkeep of Kitabuan churches.

In Africa, a Majini coalition in Ghana was able to absorb the shrunken state of Kijuju in 813. As mostly an amalgamation of various clans, this coalition had no distinct culture of its own and quickly adopted that of Kijuju, including the imperial ideology from centuries ago. Over the next seventy years, the state retrospectively called Neo-Kijuju spread gradually, sucking in territory stretching from Cameroon to Liberia.

These two countries might never have connected had not for the presence of a wholly imperial creation; Blackpoint. This small state roughly 1 1/3 the size of Borneo had stayed mainly isolated, continuing to be ruled by the Viceroy and the local nobility. In response to the growth of Mar and Neo-Kijuju (it will just be called Kijuju in this text from here on out), Blackpoint established separate trade treaties with both in 830. This led to the rise of a complex trading network which spanned the Atlantic and which was mediated by Blackpoint. Through these economic ties, traders and manufacturers came into contact with individuals on the other side of the ocean, gradually reconnecting the cultural ties that had been lost almost four centuries ago. Still, it was not a political union, and the two Atlantic powers almost went to war twice over control of some shipping lanes in the South Atlantic.

This status quo might have been continued had it not been for two happenings. First, in 902, the Viceroy Montax XIII died without an heir. The military, without any commanders forceful enough to take the throne, split among various noble factions who all vied for power. There was no major civil war, but local mob violence occurred among factions in the cities and small pitched battles between troops of different sides erupted in parts of the countryside. As Blackpoint was crucial to the Atlantic trade, Mar and Kijuju stepped to mediate a settlement. It took ten years for peace to be established, as none of the aristocratic families were willing to easily give up their claims to the throne. Once order was restored, both Mar and Kijuju had far more influence in the Blackpoint court as both sides were keen to preserve economic prosperity at all costs. With a rather small land army, Blackpoint had little choice but to accept this diminishment of it autonomy.

At about the same time, Kijuju began to experience savage attacks from Zombie forces to the south. These were in fact descendants of the Kingdom of Xel, though this new political entity was much more decentralized than the original kingdom had been. The Kijujan king Bpfasa, requested aid from Mar. Over the course of the next twelve years, the Zombies were pushed south again from that region and were never a major threat ever again. Though Kijuju had been victorious, it had ceded much military authority to Mar during the course of the war. The imbalance would greatly affect the development of Great Majinia.

In 1110 a civil war broke out in Kijuju when the southern provinces tried to install one of their own nobles on the throne. Even after succeeding, they continued to loot and plunder the north. In response to these outrages, the northern provinces begged for assistance from Mar in exchange for a complete surrender of autonomy. A massive Maran army was sent in, and in the course of subduing the south, it ultimately took control of the entire country. Under Maran rule, the whole area began to grow in prosperity, though there was also growing resentment over the Marans' new authority in the kingdom. In this atmosphere, the Imperial Society grew in popularity.

The Imperial Society was a group of intellectuals and enthusiasts of Classical Majinia who believed that the old empire was the natural order for all Majini. They supported the Maran rule over Blackpoint and Kijuju, but felt that it should only be a step towards the eventual re-creation of the old empire. By the beginning of the eleventh century, the organization included members from all levels of society, including high ranking governmental officials.

The Society might not have gotten anywhere politically were it not for several unrelated events. First, in 1110, the Brigade for a Free Kijuju started a guerilla war to free Kijujan West Africa from Maran rule. While the Brigade enjoyed some popular support, especially in the rural areas, many Kijujans liked the security that Maran dominance brought, thus leading to yet another bloody civil war. Secondly, a large force of Ganados was moving down from former Libya across the Sahara. The year after the civil war broke out these Ganados came into contact with the northeastern portion of Kijuju. Powerful warriors, they raided deep into the country. Third, in 1112, a warlord Hunter leading an army of cyborg Bandersnatches invaded Florida (then a Maran protectorate) from Cuba. As southern Florida was not garrisoned, the Bandersnatches soon occupied nearly half the state, terrorizing the local populace. The faction-ridden Maran Congress and the incompetent King Nyobe took little substantive action.

Into the breach stepped Col. Pieter Jaszon, a skilled commander in the Maran army and a devoted member of the Imperial Society. Transmitting a message across both sides of the Atlantic from his own private home in August, 1112, he called on Majini everywhere to aid him in "driving out the invaders and restoring glory to the Majini race." His call attracted tens of thousands of followers, many of whom were already battle-hardened veterans. His first course of action was to save Kijuju. Taking his army to Africa, he was able to ambush and destroy the bulk of the Ganado force outside the ruins of Niamey, forcing the remaining Ganados to retreat back north. Gaining even more followers from grateful Kijujans, he then sailed for Florida. He was briefly stopped by a Maran fleet, but after explaining to them what his mission was, they defected to his side. Landing at Vero Beach, his army crushed the Bandersnatches at Sebring, and Jaszon had their Hunter leader executed.

It was at this point the governments of Mar and Kijuju stepped in...and called for Jaszon's arrest for subverting military authority! An infuriated citizenry rose up and rioting broke out on both sides of the Atlantic. Taking advantage of his popularity, Jaszon went to Maran capital of Baltimore and marched into the Maran Congress, ordering the arrest of all the congressmen. To avoid such a fate, the King of Kijuju resigned and retired with his family to Cameroon. Only the Viceroy of Blackpoint had totally thrown his support behind Jaszon after he had driven off the invaders and for this, he was allowed to stay in power.

On November 30, 1112, the combined armed forces of Mar and Kijuju marched into Alqazar with Jaszon at their head. Going up the steps of the old capital building, he greeted the High Priest and the Viceroy. Then stripping naked, the ancient ebony armor was placed on his body (it had been bought back from Ciketh centuries earlier at a very high price after the death of Wesker X). The High Priest then endowed him with the royal authority and declared him Emperor Wesker I of Great Majinia (it was a name the Priest had come up with right on the spot to distinguish it from the original Majinia). The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. 

It is unknown how planned this event was. While its execution gave the impression of spontaneity, the fact that it went off so smoothly leads some historians to believe that it had been planned in secret meetings among Jaszon, the High Priest, and select Maran and Kijujan politicians more than a month before.

Great patriotism for the new Empire swept both sides of the Atlantic in the wake of Jaszon's victories. Most of the support for the Brigade for a Free Kijuju fell away, and the core supporters were soon rounded up and put in prison. To make sure that separatist tendencies did not return, Wesker declared all portions of the empire to be equal, with none subordinate to any other. Most of the provincial organization of Mar and Kijuju was kept in place to keep continuity, and the flags of the two countries were woven into the imperial crest. Still, their old independence was gone. To satisfy the Marans who had been the dominant partner, the imperial capital was moved to Baltimore (though much of the city was rebuilt to look like Alqazar). And to keep religious disputes from flaring up, the Emperor decreed religious tolerance but that state money would go towards the upkeep of Kitabuan religious institutions. Finally, the Imperial Society became a highly privileged organization in the government hierarchy whose goal was to promote the idea that Great Majinia was the natural and legitimate successor to Classical Majinia.

In order to draw further parallels with Classical Majinia, Wesker swiftly began retaking all of the outlying areas that had been part of the old Empire. This was quite easy in America, as after his defense of Florida, many of the Majini communities in the eastern US welcomed imperial protection. Things were a little more difficult in Africa, with some of the regions not wishing to lose their local autonomy, but by 1119, all of the regions once held by Classical Majinia were united.

Under Wesker II and Wesker III, the pre-Irving Empire reached its height. Once again, Majinia was the wealthiest country in the world, and became a center of culture and learning.

In 1169, Wesker III died without an heir. As the nobles were unable to come up with a candidate immediately, many of them feared civil war. However, less than two days after Wesker's death, a general from Blackpoint known only as Vitilian rushed over Baltimore in an Air Force carrier in a lightning bid to seize the throne. Landing in the palace pavilion, and had himself declared Emperor. No one bothered to oppose him. To set himself apart from earlier rulers, he took the title of Irving II to link him back to the Tricell scientist whose work had brought about the creation the Type 2 and Type 3 Plagas.

Things might have stayed pretty much the same had not a large expanding Zombie kingdom invaded the American territories in 1170. Penetrating as far deep as West Virginia, they were stopped by the Emperor at the Battle of Charleston. Going on the offensive, Irving completely conquered this kingdom whose capital was in eastern Kansas and then took a large portion of Nebraska and Colorado as buffer territory. Surveying the region to the west and the north, he saw a patchwork of small, independent Majini and Ganado states interspersed with other species' cities and fiefdoms, all of them constantly at war with each other. He then decided to take it upon himself to "liberate" these scattered Plaga communities from their chaotic surroundings.

Before moving north, he turned his attention to the African provinces. He first moved south, conquering as far as Cape Town so as to give Great Majinia an even greater monopoly over the Atlantic. He then moved north of Kijuju, conquering as far as Oran in former Algeria so that the empire would have a toehold in the Mediterranean.

After dealing with Africa, he embarked on a colossal war of conquest that brought the entirety of the Louisiana Purchase under imperial control, as well as Oregon Country and most of the rest of Texas. Moving into Canada, he conquered most of the west and northwest, and then moved into Alaska. Covering a massive swath of territory, the conquest proceeded rather rapidly as there were no major powers in his way to halt his massive juggernaut of an army. He reached the Aleutian Islands by 1181.

Irving may have stopped there, but raiders from Russia convinced Irving the need to establish a presence on the other side of the Bering Strait. Once he entered Russia, he saw a similar circumstance of small Plaga city states and principalities among many others. He then embarked on another set of conquests where he got as far as Perm by 1188.

Great Majinia now hovered over the ancient empire of Lovakon. Though it was still rather large, Lovakon was underdeveloped, not very wealthy, and had very out-of-date weapons. Some of Irving's generals wanted him to conquer it as a crowning end to his ambitions, but Irving realized that his forces were spread thin as it was. He allowed Lovakon to retain independence in exchange for an annual tribute as well as supplying soldiers for the Majinian army. Turning most of his attentions to domestic matters, he reorganized the newly-conquered provinces into hundreds of smaller counties. A few campaigns were undertaken to seize specific small bits of territory along the Empire's borders; among these was the ill-fated war against Godface.

At the end of Irving's conquests, he ruled an empire more than twice the size of that of Alexander the Great's. He organized the new territories largely along their preexisting lines. Like many previous rulers, he passed edicts that forbade forcible infection. Irving was a tolerant Majini, but this policy also reflected reality as large parts of the empire now had no Plagas populations and he needed their loyalty to maintain order in the outskirts of the Empire.

Upon his death in 1203, he bequeathed the Empire to his four sons; Irving III got Russia, Rikoreth I got North America, and Wesker IV got Africa. Mikorvi I, who had little interest in ruling large territories, received Blackpoint. This arrangement might have worked had Irving II not put in the will a clause that decreed that whichever brother lived longest would inherit the entire empire. Right after the Emperor's funeral (which was a massive affair where his body was paraded from Oran to Perm), Mikorvi tried unsuccessfully to have Wesker poisoned. This threw the whole empire into a war which lasted six years.

During the War of the Brothers, Lovakon attacked Russian Majinia in an attempt to drive them out of Asia. It got pretty far into Siberia, but when Irving III rushed back to the front, he pushed the Lovakonians out and annexed all of their territory in former Kazakhstan. He also forced the Emperor of Lovakon to give up the title of Emperor of the Majini.

In the end, the original settlements of Irving II's will remained in place, and the borders were formalized at the Treaty of Toronto. The borders largely remained static until most of the Canadian provinces broke off to form its own kingdom under Wesker VI in 1302. In Blackpoint, the title of Emperor was abolished in 1214 with the death of Mikorvi I, and the Viceroy returned as the head of state, though its line was still kept in the dynasty of Irving. In 1330, at the death of Winig II of Africa and Naron I of Canada, all the nobles swore their allegiance to Irving VIII of America, thus temporarily recreating the massive Great Majinia. He ruled for three years before dying; upon his death, nobles within their respective sub-kingdoms elected Emperors and since then the areas have drifted apart.

Alongside Blackpoint, Siberia also got rid of its monarchy relatively early on, mostly due to disgust at the estreme luxury of Rikreth I's court which had drained the imperial treasury. After his death in 1217, the nobles opted not to elect a new king but instead they created an oligarchy with a limited voting pool which controlled almost all the national policy. To replace the king, there was a Premier who was given wide latitude in handling foreign policy and national defense, and he also had considerable authority in domestic matters. In 1230, Siberia took northern Manchuria and the Japanese island of Hokkaido. An invasion of Honshu failed due to the efforts of a mixed-species coalition. The border has remained relatively stable ever since.

The five great Majini powers together make Majini the dominant species on Earth. Yet they are constantly at each other's throat, trying to snatch small pieces of territory from one another, and this disunity has allowed for states of other species to assert their own spheres of influence. Who knows how this will all play out eventually?


	8. The Voice of the Righteous

Part 6: The Voice of the Righteous

_Through silver in blood, we stand judged not by eyes of flesh when transit times cross, prey visions consumed._

- Neurosis, _Through Silver in Blood_

The mirrors spanning the main corridor in theImperialPalacereflected the visage Councilman Hendelman as he nervously hurried through the cavernous structure. The walls, floor, and ceilings of the hallway were covered with giant mirrors designed explictly to make one feel disoriented as they walked towards the main chamber.

He was a blonde Majini of normal height, not ugly but not anything too special to look at. Yet it wasn't his phenotype which made him special. As an Imperial Councilman, he was one of the most privileged individuals in all Majinia. A Councilman could override the decisions of a provincial governor, and in certain circumstances, a High General. The Council ruled much of the day to day affairs of the Empire, passing the mundane laws that affected the lives of the greater citizenry. Their laws were then enforced by the governors who often adapted them to fit local needs. As long as the borders were secure and the tax money came in, the Council was willing to allow this degree of regional autonomy.

The laws of the Council could of course at any time be overruled by the Emperor. In recent times, he had generally restricted himself to performing a handful of very select duties, many of them purely ceremonial. Still, he retained absolute control over every aspect of the government, and the Council knew that their own power was only wielded at his discretion.

_I wonder what could be so important that the Emperor would convene the Council right in the Palace_. The Council usually met in a building about a mile away from the Palace, and the Emperor rarely attended its deliberations. When he did, it was either for special occasions or when the state was in crisis. But to call the Council to meet with the imperial personage in the Palace itself? One would think that there was an army at the gates of the capitol. Relations were always tense with the neighboring Empires of Canada and Kijuju, but there had not been overt hostilities with them for some time. The only open combat had been with small powers to the west and south, but they were no threat to Majinia. So why did the Emperor want to meet with the Council in the dead of night in a manner than reflected only the gravest of tidings?

Entering the throne room through two doors of solid diamond, Hendelman took his seat with the rest of the Councilors. Jewels adorned the high walls of the Palace, and banners hung from the ceiling displaying the royal crest; a Cephalo wrapping itself around the Earth. Light shone through stained glass windows bearing images of Majinia's greatest rulers. The Councilmen's chairs were seated around a semi-circular table that wrapped around a raised section of the floor supporting the Emperor's ivory throne.

"All rise for his Imperial Majesty, Wesker XIV, Emperor of All Majinia, Protector of All Plagas, Chosen of Mokoroth!"

Through a door to the right of the throne came the Emperor, dressed from head to toe in armor carved from elephant bone. Behind him came his elite Ivory Guard, each with a rifle slung over their shoulder and a scimitar at their side. Wesker made his way to the throne and sat down slowly, his face giving off no expression except the cold sneer of command. The fact that he was named Wesker was auspicious, as his physical features mimicked those of Albert Wesker almost perfectly, but for the exception of copper-colored skin and jet-black hair.

"Sit" he said in an emotionless voice. The Councilors immediately took their seats, waiting to hear what he would say next. In a conversation with the Emperor, it was protocol that he be given the first and last word.

"I'm sure all of you have heard about our defeat at Godhand by the forces of those mongrels in Godface. Troops have been sent to reinforce our southern border, but with all of the enemies that the Empire faces, we cannot spare many troops to set up long term fortifications. Thus, it is my will that we initiate a plan for the immediate conquest of Godface."

The Councilors were not able to hide their surprise. With Godhand out of Majinian control, an invasion would have been incredibly costly and difficult.

"Beg your pardon, Your Majesty," said one Councilman, "but we just do not have the resources for such an undertaking. If we were to divert a legion or two from the northern border,Canadawould see this as an opportunity to grab some of our land. The Empire's prestige has been damaged enough without us losing territory by involving ourselves in a war whose outcome would not be certain."

"And do we even want to rule Godface directly?" asked another. "Given its mixed population, the city would be a constant source of instability. Also, it has proven to be a very effective buffer state against raiders fromMexico. There is a reason whyIrvingthe Great did not conquer these lands; they are too desolate, too poor, and too dangerous. We Majini should stake our claim in the civilized world."

"I do not agree" replied the Emperor. It was a simple enough statement, but everyone shut their mouths. One did not make a reply to the Emperor unless it was quite that he had finished speaking his mind. To do so otherwise risked death. Wesker spoke in a soft, reverent tone that reflected his great personal piety. Some were considering having him named Wesker the Holy after his incredible devotion to Kitabuan teachings.

"Majinia is more than just a political state, but it is instead an idea; nay, it is a divine mission. We Majini are the superior life-forms on this planet, and it has been decreed in the Holy Kitabu that our people shall have dominion over the entire Earth. All shall partake in the glorious communion in the Majini hive."

He paused for a second, staring out across the two dozen or so Councilors. They were all listening intently, but he knew that they did not all agree with him. It was a more secular age than those of his forebears, and many of the Councilmen saw the Empire as little more than a bureaucratic mechanism to gain wealth and power.

_The price of power is decadence. This is why Majinia can never become like the godless Siberia, with its technocratic outlook and lack of respect for divinely-ordained authority. The Empire needs a single ruler at its helm, one who will interpret the commands of God correctly and do his will. One who will not bend to the trends of the age. One who will lead the Majini to true righteousness. One…like myself._

"Godface is not just another city," he continued, "but a holy temple dedicated to Mokoroth himself. How can a place as holy as this be ruled by the abominable filth that now dwell in its walls? The great tower of that city should be filled with priests giving praise for Mokoroth all day long, not be the toilet of some disgusting Tyrant."

"These are the days spoken of in the Kitabu Cha Mngu, the days of sloth and vanity that would test our faith. Yes, removing troops from borders will make us vulnerable. But Mokoroth will provide if we do His Will. A city which is built in the image of the Supreme should not be defiled by maggots!"

"But to take the city is impossible!" cried out one Councilman. A deathly chill fell over the room. At any given second, the Emperor could have ordered the Councilor's death for interrupting the imperial voice.

Wesker however was undaunted and plowed forward with his speech.

"Plans have been set into motion which shall hopefully minimize bloodshed on the part of out soldiers. But whether one soldier falls or a thousand, it is all part of the Divine's great tapestry of the universe."

By now the Emperor was in a furor, screaming out his words and frothing at the mouth.

"We now stand at the gates of Heaven! Who is a better judge of our actions; Majini or Mokoroth? We shall burn our enemies, and the world shall be cleansed in the blood of the righteous! Stand with me now as we purify Godface and show ourselves worthy of the great secular power that has been bestowed upon us! We are Majini, we are God'sChosen, our victory written in the fabric of the cosmos. All for God!"

The Emperor arched his head back and gave out a piercing, inhuman screech. Blood poured from his eyes and mouth, and tendrils lashed out between his jaws and flailed towards the sky. All around the room, the Councilmen joined Wesker in this monstrous display of piety, their voices joining together to form a tremendous howl; a sound born of primal rage and a religiosity far deeper than anything the most fanatical human zealot could have ever imagined, a sound which split the quiet of the night and made the heavens weep.


End file.
